


fetch your leash, darling

by someoneplsloverobbierotten



Category: LazyTown
Genre: Anal Sex, Collars, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Good Boy Kink, Kink, Leashes, Lingerie, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Riding, Rough Sex, Sassy Sub, little bit of Pet Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-26
Updated: 2017-04-26
Packaged: 2018-10-24 10:14:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10739628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/someoneplsloverobbierotten/pseuds/someoneplsloverobbierotten
Summary: Glanni is waiting for him when Íthróttaálfurinn arrives at his apartment that night.“Fetch your leash, darling,” Glanni tells him, voice like velvet, and Íthróttaálfurinn’s pulse immediately picks up.He knows exactly what kind of night it’s going to be now.





	fetch your leash, darling

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Scorpius_Wears_Short_Skirts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scorpius_Wears_Short_Skirts/gifts).



> Happy Birthday Dax ;)

Glanni is waiting for him when Íthróttaálfurinn arrives at his apartment that night.

The Fæ is reclined on the chaise longue, surrounded by fancy pillows and silky throws and looking like royalty. Deep pink eyeshadow covers his eyes and the black glittered eyeliner that lines them looks sharp enough to cut. There’s a touch of pink glitter on the outer edge of his eyelids and his lashes are long and spiked, coated flawlessly with mascara. His lips have been painted a dark black and though they  _ look _ dry, Íthró can’t tell whether they’ll leave a mark or not. Sometimes Glanni wants Íthróttaálfurinn covered in lipstick marks, sometimes he doesn't. He’ll just have to wait and see.

Aside from the makeup, Glanni is wearing nothing but some lingerie and a pair of black suede platform stiletto heels. Sheer black stockings cling to his long legs, clipped to a very simple black suspender belt -  _ unusually  _ simple for Glanni’s tastes, but Íthró’s not complaining. It’s working wonderfully for him, and Glanni knows it; a smirk twisting the corners of his full, black painted lips.

He has one satiny leg bent upwards, his knee tilted to the side and leant against the back of the seat, the heel of his shoe digging into the fabric of it, and the other resting over the side of the chaise longue, his heel planted firmly on the floor.

The position gives Íthróttaálfurinn a clear view of Glanni’s crotch, showcasing the pair of silky black panties he’s wearing; barely big enough to fully conceal what Íthró already knows to be quite a substantial cock. 

Íthróttaálfurinn makes no attempt to conceal the hunger in his gaze, golden eyes going over every inch of Glanni’s gorgeous form. He can already feel himself growing hard, the blood rushing to his cock as he drinks in the sight of Glanni stretched out before him.

“Fetch your leash, darling,” Glanni tells him, voice like velvet, and Íthróttaálfurinn’s pulse immediately picks up.

He knows  _ exactly  _ what kind of night it’s going to be now.

He heads into the bedroom and opens up his closet. Unsurprisingly, it is  _ much  _ smaller than Glanni’s, which takes up practically the entire rest of the wall. There’s a little rack attached to the wardrobe’s inner-side and Íthró pulls it out. His collar hangs on the first peg and his leash on the second.

He removes the collar off its peg. It’s green and woven, made of very high quality leather. The tag is gold, with ‘ _ Íthróttaálfurinn’  _ written in italic script on one side, and  _ ‘Owner: Glanni Glæpur’ _ on the other. The leash matches, but has a thin layer of soft orange fabric around the inside of the handle.

He brings both back to Glanni and hands them to him, which he takes with a care he rarely expresses with anything else.

“Strip,” Glanni orders.

The Elf does so, reaching up to pull the hat off his head. He shakes his head a bit, fluffing out his curls and letting the air to his ears. He folds the hat up quickly but gently, making sure the crystal is safely tucked inside fabric before setting it down near the foot of the chaise longue, then crosses his arms over his stomach and grips the bottom corners of his shirt, pulling it up. Taking it off like this instead of pulling it over his head from the neck makes his biceps flex in a way he knows Glanni loves. Glanni doesn’t like it when he strips too fast because it doesn’t give him enough time to ‘enjoy the show’, so Íthró makes sure to do it at a decent pace. He also pushes his hips out a bit as he tugs the shirt up to make the muscles on his stomach ripple. If Glanni wants to enjoy the show, then he’s going to make sure there’s one to enjoy.

He chucks the shirt towards the bedroom door with a lot less care than he’d handled his hat and lowers his hands. His belt is next, and he undoes the buckle with sure movements, sliding the thick black leather out of the loops on his pants tantalisingly slowly.

Glanni regards the Elf with a cool gaze, his lower lip caught firmly between his teeth. He’s fully aware of what Íthróttaálfurinn is doing, and Íthróttaálfurinn knows it. With his legs spread the way they are and the thin material of his panties barely covering his cock to begin with, it’s no secret the effect his actions are having on the Fæ.

Íthróttaálfurinn throws the belt towards the shirt and then removes his boots and socks, tossing them in the same direction as he had everything else. He unzips his pants and pushes them down, kicking them off when they’ve gotten to his ankles.

It’s just his underwear left now. Sometimes Glanni wanted them on and would take them off himself later, and sometimes he wanted them off at the beginning. Íthró waits for the order, slipping a sly thumb under the waistband to test the waters.

Glanni’s smirk widens. “Those too.”

Íthróttaálfurinn hooks his other thumb into the waistband of his underwear and drags them down, much more slowly than he had anything else. Glanni watches him intently, staring unabashedly at the Elf’s cock as it’s revealed. It hangs heavy and thick between his legs and Íthró sees Glanni bite his lip again, dragging his heated gaze up and down Íthróttaálfurinn’s body.

Glanni looks back up to Íthróttaálfurinn’s eyes, grinning, and crooks a finger at the hero.

“Come here.”

Íthró steps towards the other man. Instead of simply stopping and waiting for orders though, he sinks to his knees in one fluid motion once he’s close enough and tilts his head forward, his face inches from the tip of one of Glanni’s high heeled shoes.

Glanni chuckles at his eagerness. “I didn’t tell you to do that.”

Íthró can hear the amused smirk in his voice. He knows Glanni wouldn't punish him though, not for that.

The Fæ runs a hand through Íthróttaálfurinn’s golden curls once, then drags a manicured nail along the shell of the Elf’s ear, scratching lightly all the way up to the tip. Íthróttaálfurinn’s breath catches, the sensation sending shivers down his spine to his already rapidly swelling cock. Glanni removes his hand, and though Íthró can’t see anything he can hear the familiar sound of his collar being unbuckled. Blood pounds in his ears and he automatically holds his breath in anticipation. Glanni slowly brings the collar around Íthróttaálfurinn’s front and lifts it up, bringing the ends together around his neck. Íthró feels the cool metal of the tag rest against the heated flesh in between his collarbones.

He hears the scratch of metal as Glanni slides the prong of the buckle through the weave and threads the end of the strap through its loop. The feel of it settling around his neck makes the breath he’s been holding rush out of his body in a euphoric sigh, and he feels himself relax.

Glanni keeps one hand on the back of his neck as he brings the clip of the leash over and attaches it to the D-link that the tag is on. He brings the tip of one finger under Íthróttaálfurinn’s chin and tilts, the nail digging into Íthró’s chin.

Íthró looks up at Glanni, sitting there with his legs spread open wide, and watches him wrap the handle of the leash firmly around one hand. He swallows at the sight. Glanni keeps wrapping the leash around his hand until the line of woven leather between him and Íthróttaálfurinn is taught.

He then lifts the leg on the floor up and slides it over Íthróttaálfurinn’s shoulder, hooking it around the Elf’s back and pressing the heel of his stiletto into the muscle of his shoulder blade. He tugs on the collar as the stiletto digs into his back and Íthró gives into it willingly, letting himself be pulled forwards. He can feel the heel of Glanni’s shoe graze down the line of his spine as Íthró gets closer to him, leg continuing to slide over his shoulder until the warm weight of Glanni’s thick thigh rests there. Glanni stops pulling when Íthróttaálfurinn’s face is mere inches from Glanni’s cock. He can already see how hard the Fæ is beneath the silky material of the panties. Íthróttaálfurinn licks his lips, but doesn't move until he has permission.

“You,” Glanni tells him, “are going to suck that, you hear? You’re going to take my cock down that talented throat of yours and let me fuck your pretty face, isn’t that right, Pet?”

Íthróttaálfurinn nods, swallowing heavily. Gods, just the thought of it is making him rock hard. He can feel his own cock straining heavily against his thigh but he doesn’t even think about touching it. Instead, he moves in towards Glanni’s crotch, raising his hands-

Glanni gives a sharp tug on the leash and Íthró stops. It doesn’t hurt much, but it shocks him into stopping his movements.

“Ah, ah,” Glanni chastises. “No hands.”

Íthróttaálfurinn hadn’t actually planning on using his hands on Glanni’s cock, only going to hold the Fæ’s thighs for balance. Still, he obeys, putting his hands behind his back and leaning forward. He opens his mouth and grazes his teeth across the bulge in Glanni’s panties. Glanni gives a raspy chuckle from above him and his thighs twitch, presumably from the scratch of Íthró’s beard.

Íthróttaálfurinn takes the edge of the panties in his teeth and pulls the thin fabric aside, revealing the pale, smooth skin of the Fæ’s cock. Íthró’s mouth waters. Glanni is longer than he is by a good inch, and just as thick, and he’s almost fully hard already. Íthró licks a broad stripe along the curve of his dick, enjoying the sound of Glanni letting out a breath above him. He licks again and again with wet, sure strokes of his tongue, then moves to the side and nuzzles Glanni’s length with his nose, being careful not to scratch him with his moustache or beard. It allows him to reach the underside of Glanni’s dick more easily and he nibbles the skin just above Glanni’s balls.

The Fæ hums, pleased, and Íthróttaálfurinn licks back down the side of his shaft and takes the tip of Glanni’s dick in his mouth, massaging the head between his lips with his tongue. The hum turns into a growl and Íthró smiles around the cock in his mouth, lifting his head a little to draw it in deeper. He curves the flat of his tongue around the underside of Glanni’s shaft as he takes more of it into his mouth, the slick channel of his tongue helping it slide down his throat easier.  Elves don’t typically have a gag reflex - and if they do, they are more than capable of ignoring it - so the length isn't too much of an issue, but Glanni is thick enough that Íthróttaálfurinn needs this to ensure he can actually take it. It causes an ache in Íthróttaálfurinn’s jaw as he takes Glanni in further, swallowing around his cock. The movement helps draw Glanni in even deeper and has the added bonus of making Glanni’s breath hitch. If his mouth wasn't so beautifully full right now Íthró would probably smile. As it is, he just hums around Glanni’s length, the vibrations making Glanni moan.

The Fæ reaches down and buries a hand in Íthró’s hair, his nails digging into his scalp. “ _ Good boy _ , Íthróttaálfurinn,” he purrs, running a thumb along the tip of the Elf’s ear. “Good boy.”

Íthró groans at the praise, feeling his cock smearing pre-cum against his thigh. He makes sure to graze his teeth along Glanni’s length as he pulls off, delighting in the hiss that comes from above. He sucks harshly on the flushed head, swirling his tongue around the tip before pulling him back in. He doesn't take him as far down again as he did before, sucking and swallowing him down a bit before pulling off again to give more attention to the head. It’s dripping pre-cum by now, which Íthróttaálfurinn laps up happily. Glanni tastes wonderful; like salt and skin and something magical. It’s probably the taste of literal magic, but better than that, it’s  _ Glanni’s  _ magic.

Íthró closes his teeth gently around Glanni’s cock, just under the head, and drags upwards. Glanni moans and Íthró can see his hips and thighs tense with the effort not to buck up into his mouth. Íthróttaálfurinn smirks and quickly takes him deep again, almost to the very base. He hold position there for a moment, listening to Glanni pant above him before humming again. Glanni makes a strained noise and Íthróttaálfurinn pulls back, dragging his tongue up Glanni’s length as he does. He gets almost to the tip when the fingers in his hair tighten and push him back down. Íthró relaxes his jaw, taking Glanni’s length easily. The thickness is a little tough but it’s nothing he can’t handle - something that’s been proven many times in the past. Glanni pushes him right down to the base of his cock, Íthró’s nose pushed against hair and skin. He holds him there for a little bit, then drags him back up, only to get a third of the way from the tip and push him back down again.

Glanni fucks Íthróttaálfurinn’s mouth slowly, taking as much time as he wants, then speeds up, thrusting his cock down Íthró’s throat at a faster pace. Íthróttaálfurinn keeps his throat relaxed as Glanni has his way with him, smoothing his tongue along the underside of his dick.

Glanni moans loudly, burying himself to the hilt inside Íthróttaálfurinn’s mouth again. “ _ Yes _ , Íthróttaálfurinn, that’s good,” he praises. “You’re fucking taking it so well, aren’t you?” he asks, as he fucks Íthróttaálfurinn’s mouth. “Look at that pretty mouth taking my fat cock so well. You  _ love  _ it, don’t you?” Glanni chuckles dirtily.

Íthró hums around his cock in reply and Glanni bucks, gasping. He pulls Íthróttaálfurinn up off his cock by his hair and glares down at him, breathing harshly. The Elf can see a dent in his lipstick from where he’s been biting his lip. 

“Get up here.” Glanni tugs on the leash and Íthró crawls up between The Fæ’s legs. Glanni pulls him onto the sofa and Íthróttaálfurinn sits back on his heels between Glanni’s spread legs. Like this, he’s taller than Glanni, who’s laid back against the pillows on the chaise longue and Glanni uses the leash to pull Íthróttaálfurinn down towards him and kiss him. The Elf groans at the contact, desperately kissing back. It’s hot and messy and harsh; with absolutely no finesse to it at all and Íthróttaálfurinn loves it. He can feel Glanni’s lipstick smearing over his lips and into his beard as the Fæ practically fucks Íthró’s mouth with his tongue, biting and sucking and licking at Íthróttaálfurinn until he’s practically a whimpering mess.

_ ‘Payback’ _ , Íthró thinks as Glanni scratches his nails down his chest. Íthróttaálfurinn moans into Glanni’s mouth as one of his sharp nails catches his nipple and Glanni swallows it down, smirking against Íthróttaálfurinn’s lips. He bites at the Elf’s lower lip and Íthróttaálfurinn whines.

Glanni breaks away, breathing heavily and pulls on the lead. He slides around Íthróttaálfurinn and puts a hand on his shoulder to push him down, turning him as he does so. Íthróttaálfurinn ends up lying on the chaise longue in much the same position that Glanni had been before; propped up against the pillows with his legs spread out on the seat. The Fæ straddles Íthróttaálfurinn’s lap, the soft flesh of his ass millimetres from Íthró’s leaking cock. He’s deliberately as close as possible to Íthró’s dick without actually touching it and it's driving Íthró wild with the urge to move, to shift just slightly and rub his dick between those gorgeous asscheeks. He stays still though. Glanni will punish him and as tempting as that is, Íthróttaálfurinn wants to know what Glanni has planned.

Glanni looks at him for a moment, drinking in the sight of Íthróttaálfurinn naked under him. He runs a clawed hand down Íthróttaálfurinn’s chest, grazing over a nipple and wandering down his abs to where he’s sat. He takes himself in hand, still slick from Íthró’s spit and strokes himself a couple of times, slowly. Íthróttaálfurinn bites down on his tongue and his breathing picks up as he watches Glanni stroke himself.

Is that what’s going to happen? He’s going to watch Glanni jack himself off, in those gorgeous suspenders and stockings whilst Íthróttaálfurinn can't do anything? That’s fine with him. He’ll take anything Glanni will give him and he knows he’ll enjoy it.

That doesn’t appear to be the plan though, because after running his fist over his shaft a few times Glanni smirks and lifts himself off Íthróttaálfurinn waist and moves back an inch. He pauses directly above Íthróttaálfurinn’s dick, and reaches down. At first, the Elf thinks that Glanni’s going to touch  _ him _ but then Glanni’s hand changes direction; still heading down but reaching back behind himself.

Glanni hooks a finger around the tiny crotch of his panties and moves it aside, then looks directly into Íthróttaálfurinn’s eyes and sinks down, down, down onto Íthró’s aching cock.

Íthróttaálfurinn gasps as Glanni instantly takes him all the way inside, slick and beautifully hot, with absolutely no warning.

_ ‘He prepared himself already’ _ , Íthró realises. That thought is so unbelievably intoxicating that Íthróttaálfurinn has to fight not to cum there and then. Not only because Glanni will give him hell if he does, but because he does  _ not  _ want this to end now.

Glanni rises up again, clenching purposefully around Íthróttaálfurinn’s cock and the Elf groans, letting his head fall back against the pillows. Glanni tugs on the leash though and forces Íthróttaálfurinn’s head up, fucking himself slowly on Íthró’s cock. Íthróttaálfurinn brings himself up until he’s almost flush with Glanni, the other man writhing in his lap. It brings Glanni’s dick up against Íthróttaálfurinn’s abs, rubbing against them through the fabric of his panties. Íthróttaálfurinn can feel the head smearing pre-cum against his stomach where it peeks out the top of his underwear. Glanni groans at the contact, thrusting his cock against Íthróttaálfurinn muscled stomach.

“Lick me,” he commands, and Íthró obeys, immediately leaning up to drag the flat of his tongue over one of Glanni’s nipples. The Fæ lets out a whine at the contact, breathing harshly as the Elf laves over the crinkled bud with his tongue.

“Yes, yes,” he praises, “that’s  _ nice _ , Íthró - good boy, good.”

Íthróttaálfurinn responds to the praise by sucking on Glanni’s nipple before moving to the other, giving it much the same treatment as he had the first, adding the barest scrape of his teeth around his areola.

Glanni slides a hand into Íthróttaálfurinn’s hair as he grinds down on his cock. “Bite them,” he tells the Elf, “go on darling, I know you want to.”

Íthróttaálfurinn does want to, and he closes his teeth around the bud of Glanni’s nipple and tugs, relishing in the hiss that leaves the other’s painted lips. The hand in his hair clenches, the sharp nails digging into Íthróttaálfurinn’s scalp only spurring him on. He bites down around the edge of Glanni’s areola and Glanni groans, Íthró licking at the nipple with his tongue even with his teeth still clamped down on Glanni’s skin.

“Gods, just-  _ touch  _ me,” Glanni pants, “put your hands on me. Don’t touch yourself, or my cock.”

Íthróttaálfurinn immediately sets both hands on Glanni’s knees and slides them up his legs, feeling the soft silkiness of the suspender under his palms and the thick muscle of Glanni’s thighs underneath. His fingers skim over the belt of the suspender and up to Glanni’s hips, gripping the Fæ’s hip bones firmly as he moves up and down on Íthróttaálfurinn’s cock. He spreads his fingers and palms out over the high curve of Glanni’s ass and pulls him closer, pressing the other’s cock against his stomach. Glanni hisses and tugs sharply on the leash, leaning in to bite at Íthró’s lips. Íthróttaálfurinn kisses back hungrily, tasting lipstick. He winds an arm around Glanni’s waist as Glanni’s hand clutches harder at his scalp and starts lifting the Fæ up and slamming him down again, the tight, wet heat of his ass around Íthróttaálfurinn’s dick getting to be too much.

“You  _ fucker _ ,” Glanni growls, and bites Íthróttaálfurinn  _ hard  _ on the shoulder. Íthró knows he’s drawn blood, hissing in pain but not stopping as he continues to fuck the Fæ in his lap. Glanni doesn’t stop him but he does remove the hand on from Íthróttaálfurinn’s hair and rakes his nails down his back instead. Íthróttaálfurinn yelps, faltering in his thrusting slightly.

“Serves you right you - Gods,  _ fuck  _ \- you little  _ shit _ ,” Glanni snarls, “Gods,  _ fuck me _ , fuck me  _ hard _ .”

Íthróttaálfurinn does, slamming the Fæ onto his cock at a relentless pace. Glanni wraps the arm with the leash around Íthróttaálfurinn’s back and grips his shoulder, the leather of the leash wrapped around his hand pressing into Íthró’s shoulder. He bites his neck again, sinking his teeth into the flesh of Íthróttaálfurinn’s neck just above the collar and sucking hard. He burns a trail of hickeys down from Íthró’s jaw to his shoulder, making an absolute mess of the Elf’s throat. Íthróttaálfurinn can’t  _ wait  _ to see it in the morning. There’ll be a gap where the collar was and it’ll be so perfect. Íthróttaálfurinn groans at the thought, relishing the sensation of his throat being practically mauled by Glanni’s sharp teeth. He doesn’t know how much more of this he’ll be able to take.

Glanni can tell he’s close too. “You gonna cum?” he asks, taunting. “ _ Tough _ . You’ve been naughty, changing things up like that.” He licks up the side of Íthróttaálfurinn’s ear, breathing over the shell of it. “You’ve been a  _ bad  _ boy, Íthróttaálfurinn,” the Fæ snarls into the hollow of his sensitive ear. “I don’t think I’m going to let you cum at  _ all _ .”

Íthróttaálfurinn’s breath stutters. “Glanni-” he gasps.

“You think I should?” the Fæ asks, “after you were so naughty? You think I should let you?”

Íthróttaálfurinn can’t answer, too busy trying not to come, and whines.

“You better fucking  _ beg  _ for it then Íthróttaálfurinn,” Glanni twists his hips against Íthró’s crotch and clenching against his cock. “You’re gonna have to convince me after that. You’ve been  _ so  _ bad.”

“Please,” Íthróttaálfurinn begs, “please, Glanni.”

“Please  _ what _ ?” Glanni demands, “What do you want, Pet?”

“Please- let me cum Glanni,  _ please _ .”

“Hmmm…” The Fæ pretends to think, licking up Íthró’s neck. “I don’t  _ think  _ so” he growls.

“Glanni  _ please _ , please,” Íthróttaálfurinn practically sobs against Glanni’s neck. “Please, I’m  _ begging  _ you, Glanni, please let me cum,  _ please _ .”

Glanni cups a hand over Íthróttaálfurinn’s jaw and lifts it, looking over his Elf. “My pretty boy,” he says, taking in Íthró’s glazed eyes and sweaty curls. “Such  _ beautiful  _ words...” he slows his pace and rises until only the very tip of Íthró’s cock is left inside his ass, keeping Íthróttaálfurinn’s head tilted up so he can look down at him. “Fine, sweetheart, I’ll let you cum,” Glanni says; the Fæ’s lips millimetres away from Íthróttaálfurinn’s own, gazing into the Elf’s eyes. “But only after  _ me _ ,” Glanni growls, dropping himself back down on Íthróttaálfurinn’s cock  _ hard _ . Íthróttaálfurinn howls as Glanni starts a punishing pace on his cock, slamming down again and again with absolutely no mercy.

“You better fuck me good, Pet, before I let you cum.” Glanni snarls, bouncing on Íthróttaálfurinn’s lap. “You better fuck me  _ hard _ .”

Íthróttaálfurinn wraps both arms around Glanni’s waist, one hand curling under and gripping the flesh of his ass as he lifts Glanni up and shoves him back down on his cock relentlessly and Glanni screams, digging his nails into Íthró’s back and shoulders. The Fæ lets out a litany of curses as Íthróttaálfurinn growls against his neck, fucking him as hard as he can. He can feel the sweat pouring down his back, feel the soaked fabric of Glanni’s panties sticking to his abs and the slick hardness of Glanni’s length rubbing against him, feel the burn in his thighs and his back, in his arms and shoulders as he strains his muscles to the limit. He doesn't stop for one  _ second _ , pushing through it to slam again and again into Glanni’s ass, burying himself to the hilt. Glanni screams and howls every time, swearing as Íthróttaálfurinn keeps hitting his prostate. He clings to Íthró, the leash wrapped tight around one hand. He tugs on it suddenly, the collar digging into Íthróttaálfurinn’s throat and almost choking him as Glanni fucking  _ screams  _ and collapses against Íthróttaálfurinn, shuddering violently. His entire body is wracked with spasms, his thighs tensing around Íthró’s hips as he cums, thrusting against Íthró’s stomach. Íthróttaálfurinn fucks him through it as Glanni howls into Íthró’s neck, feeling Glanni’s dick slide through the sticky mess on his abs.

He’s  _ so  _ close, he’s so,  _ so  _ close and Glanni raises his face to Íthró’s ear and whispers “fucking  _ come for me, _ Íthróttaálfurinn,” and bites down hard on the lobe of his ear and Íthróttaálfurinn  _ breaks _ , letting out a guttural cry as he buries himself inside Glanni’s tight ass and comes. He clutches at Glanni’s waist and hips, digging his fingers into the flesh of the Fæ’s ass as he thrusts shallowly inside and spills into him. He presses his face into Glanni’s shoulder and lets out a sob as he empties himself, and Glanni threads a hand through his hair and strokes his soaked curls and shushes him gently.

“ _ Shhh, _ Pet,” he croons into Íthró’s ear, “you did  _ so  _ well for me, darling, you’ve been such a good boy.” He pushes Íthróttaálfurinn gently down onto the soft cushions. “So good for me.” Glanni twists his wrist and unwinds the leash from his hand, slipping the loop of the handle over his fingers and around his wrist. He runs his free hand soothingly down Íthróttaálfurinn’s chest. “My beautiful boy, so good.”

He settles down against Íthróttaálfurinn’s chest, the Elf still sheathed inside his ass, and curls into his side as much as he can without having to pull off his cock. He pets Íthró’s hair and murmurs sweet words, painted lips warm against his ear.

Íthróttaálfurinn melts into him, snaking an arm around Glanni’s waist and pulling the Fæ to him, curling his other arm around his back and playing with the hair at the nape of Glanni’s neck, holding him close. He can feel the damp stickiness of Glanni’s cum drying on his stomach, sandwiched between him and Glanni but he can’t bring himself to care. They can deal with all of that later. For now he’s exhausted, and he lets himself drift off to sleep, soothed with “good boy’s” and “I love you’s” as he holds Glanni close.


End file.
